Xu Fengnian truly picked up the martial arts he’d once scorned most, but before learning the sword, he first learned the blade.

Naturally, he learned from white-haired Old Kui.

Old Kui had originally planned to leave the palace to roam the jianghu—he’d been clamoring that his hands were itching, wanting to meet those Ten Great Masters who squatted on the privy but didn’t really shit much. After beating the latter nine, he’d go spar with that old monster Wang.

What Old Kui couldn’t stand most was that old bastard—if you’re number one under heaven, just be number one. What’s with pretending to be number two? Straight-up thief’s affectation! Detestable! Gnawing on a lamb shank, Old Kui heard that Xu Fengnian wanted to learn the blade from him and burst into wild laughter, spraying mutton fragments all over the ground.

Seeing the Crown Prince carrying that fine blade had no trace of jest, Old Kui tossed aside the lamb shank. His oil-stained large hands caressed the scarlet giant blade that a master had hooked into his shoulder blades during his prime years, and he asked a question: “Why the hell should Grandpa teach you?”

Xu Fengnian answered, “I’ll have Xu Xiao invite that horse-cleaving blade wielder Wei Beishan to come to Beiliang and spar with you. One person each year after, until I’ve mastered the blade.”

Old Kui praised this as quite a grand gesture. He looked up at Xu Fengnian, his expression strange as he asked with a smile, “Boy, tell Grandpa why you want to learn the blade. Aren’t Beiliang’s 300,000 iron cavalry enough for you to show off with?”

Xu Fengnian drew Embroidered Winter, lightly flicking the blade with his fingers as he grinned. “Those people’s blades and spears, when it comes down to it, still belong to others. I need to find one that suits my own hand.”

Old Kui curled his lips noncommittally. He merely had Xu Fengnian hold up Embroidered Winter with a single arm and stand for half a shichen first. The blade body couldn’t tilt—otherwise, even if he invited that old monster Wang himself, he wouldn’t take this bargain disciple.

As a result, Xu Fengnian persisted until a full shichen before collapsing on the spot. Embroidered Winter blade never tilted—to be precise, it didn’t even tremble.

Old Kui stared dumbfounded at the Crown Prince collapsed on the ground. Walking over to feel this boy’s right arm that was rigid as iron, he clicked his tongue saying he’d found a treasure.

Subsequently, Old Kui didn’t teach Xu Fengnian any profound stolen content or mysterious techniques. He merely had him repeat four tedious movements: straight thrust, diagonal sweep, vertical chop, and retreating slash. Three thousand thrusts, three thousand sweeps, four thousand chops, four thousand slashes.

Old Kui had originally thought this young master accustomed to bells and cauldrons at meals would ask at least a few “whys,” but Xu Fengnian didn’t. He simply went to a secluded courtyard at dawn each day to begin blade practice, staggering away each night at midnight, Embroidered Winter never leaving his side.

This left Old Kui quite vexed, while also arousing his curiosity. What Xu Fengnian displayed wasn’t merely willpower, but also quite solid blade-gripping fundamentals. Could it be this Crown Prince had previously been carefully instructed by military commanders? Learned military lethal blade techniques for self-defense?

During this period, he deliberately made things difficult, having Xu Fengnian practice the tedious grip—half to make the boy retreat from difficulty, as there was no shortcut to Half-Step Ultimate South in blade techniques anywhere under heaven, the other half genuine. The first priority in blade practice was gripping the blade. If you couldn’t even hold the blade firmly, then you weren’t using the blade—the blade was dragging you along. Even if you obtained a great stack of supreme blade manuals, you’d only be performing seemingly brilliant but flashy moves. Once facing an enemy, there’d be only one path: death.

The first day of blade practice happened to fall on Major Heat.

After Major Heat came Start of Autumn.

Xu Fengnian practiced bare-chested throughout. His smooth skin carefully nurtured through fine clothing and jade-like food turned bronze, becoming increasingly robust. Add some scars and he’d be indistinguishable from battle-hardened soldiers.

But his blade technique remained far from passable.

After White Dew, Autumn Equinox, and Cold Dew came Frost Descent.

Four thousand slashes became six thousand slashes.

Xu Fengnian finally asked his first question: “The blade is the courage of all weapons, emphasizing grand sweeping movements and the spirit of ‘though facing a thousand troops and ten thousand horses, still I advance.’ But this retreating slash is a defensive blade technique—why practice it so much more?”

Old Kui laughed. “There are too many blade wielders in the world who aren’t afraid to die, but blade wielders who aren’t afraid to die are the easiest to kill. The most formidable retreating blade technique under heaven still can’t escape the character ‘slash.’ Where is there any good blade technique that takes lives from everyone? Grandpa’s great principles were all thought up on the road back from wandering around outside the King of Hell’s palace. Learn from it.”

The martial treasury had mountains of blade formulas and manuals stacked up, but from the first [Read on Jormuntl]day Xu Fengnian practiced the blade, he never set foot in Tide-Listening Pavilion, which jianghu martial artists regarded as a martial holy land.

Old Kui was quite gratified by this.

The path of blade techniques, unlike the Heavenly Dao that baby patriarch uncle at Wudang Mountain cultivated, most urgently required constant dripping to penetrate stone. As for after minor achievement, how to select complementary mental cultivation methods and cultivate both internally and externally—Old Kui didn’t worry about this. The Butcher Xu Xiao had plenty of crooked paths and side doors. The question was whether the Crown Prince accustomed to fine clothing and jade-like food could endure until that day.

After Start of Winter, right through Major Cold, even when the lake surface froze over, Xu Fengnian would be brought by Old Kui into the lake bottom to practice the blade, holding his breath for increasingly longer periods. His blade technique still hadn’t reached the hall of mastery, but he’d first developed water skills.

Recently, several bandit groups had actually sprung up outside the city, brazenly causing trouble right under the Great Pillar of State’s nose. This was simply moving earth on the Tai Sui’s head. But city rumors said these few groups of death-seeking bandits weren’t ground to meat paste by the Beiliang iron cavalry, but rather slaughtered completely by a blade wielder wearing a ferocious mask.

After expressing their amazement, the idle spectators in the city would always add that it was a pity the Crown Prince, who’d been silent and invisible for half a year, hadn’t seen it—otherwise he’d surely reward generously. As for those city notables, every one was baffled. Forget about who this sinister blade wielder was—where had those several bandit groups come from? Under the Great Pillar of State’s governance, you couldn’t say people didn’t pick up lost items or that song and dance flourished everywhere, but to claim as rumors did that they were Northern barbarian refugees who’d snuck into Beiliang causing trouble—wouldn’t believe it if you beat them to death.

On the twenty-eighth day of the lunar month, Xu Fengnian accompanied the Great Pillar of State to Jiuhua Mountain, sacred site of Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva. This time it would be he, after completing his capping ceremony, who would strike the bell.

Removing armor and dismounting to climb the mountain, lodging overnight at the summit’s Thousand Buddha Pavilion, Xu Fengnian found time by lamplight to read through the letter sent by the Dragon-Tiger Mountain Celestial Master. Quite thick.

Xu Fengnian smiled knowingly. The letter described how the Silly Yellow Barbarian, seeing mountain hawthorns all over the hills, gathered them handful by handful to bring back to his master’s cultivation residence. As a result the entire courtyard was piled full. Fortunately the highly respected Celestial Master on the mountain didn’t dare scold him, only kindly explaining that hawthorns couldn’t be stored long after picking—best to wait and pick them when descending the mountain some year. This nearly resulted in the Silly Yellow Barbarian demolishing the house.

Xu Xiao hadn’t gone to sleep. Entering the room, he glanced at Embroidered Winter blade lying horizontally on the table under lamplight. Holding another family letter in his hand—this one sent back by second daughter Xu Weixiong—the Great Pillar of State said with a bitter face, “Your second sister wrote to give me a thorough scolding.”

Xu Fengnian asked with a smile, “Just because I’m learning martial arts and practicing the blade?”

After sitting down, Xu Xiao sighed. “If you keep practicing, who knows but she might run back from Shangyin Academy to scold me in person.”

Xu Fengnian didn’t look at the letter, only gloating. “What did she say?”

Xu Xiao narrowed his eyes. “She had me ask you: Being first in the blade—so what?”

Xu Fengnian thought for a moment and said, “Just write back saying it strengthens the body and constitution. Can’t let beauties drain me hollow.”

Xu Xiao looked troubled. “Isn’t this reason a bit childish?”

Xu Fengnian said confidently, “To deal with Second Sister, you have to use this method. Otherwise if you reason with her about great principles, can you out-argue her?”

Xu Xiao gave a thumbs up and kissed ass. “This blade wasn’t learned in vain!”

The morning of the twenty-ninth day.

Mountain mist pervaded.

Xu Fengnian rested both hands on Embroidered Winter’s hilt, standing still and gazing into the distance.

After Start of Winter, those several bandit groups were all “wooden stakes” for blade practice arranged by his father Xu Xiao. Xu Xiao gave no hint whatsoever, but Xu Fengnian naturally guessed most were likely condemned criminals from the Beiliang army who’d committed grave prohibitions.

Xu Xiao governed his army extremely strictly with clear rewards and punishments. Even back when sworn son Chen Zhibao violated military law, he’d been publicly flogged into a bloody mess. If not for this, the capital’s reformist circles wouldn’t be spreading rumors that Beiliang only recognized the Liang King’s Tiger Tally and not the Emperor’s jade seal.

These military criminals temporarily acting as highway robbers and mountain bandits hadn’t inherited orthodox martial learning, but all their skills were rolled out through desperate combat on battlefields. Immensely strong and cruel, possessing the Beiliang iron cavalry’s characteristic fearlessness of death, they were most suitable for training Xu Fengnian’s straightforward killing blade technique.

Old Kui personally watched Xu Fengnian exterminate three groups. After ​noodles​that he no longer paid close attention, merely providing addresses and letting Xu Fengnian ride alone with single blade to the locations.

After the first group, Xu Fengnian bore six blade wounds—five light, one heavy. The blade that struck his back wasn’t fatal. Lying in a pool of blood, blade still in hand, he was finally carried back to the palace by Old Kui.

In subsequent batches, Xu Fengnian always fought while wounded. Old Kui absolutely wouldn’t give him the slightest chance to slack off or complain of hardship. Any other expert raised by the palace would never dare abuse a Crown Prince whose noble status could rival imperial relatives this way. Risking life against fierce bandits to practice fierce blade techniques—the dangers within couldn’t be explained to outsiders.

Xu Fengnian closed his eyes and slowed his breathing.

Thinking—was it time to begin internal cultivation? No matter how domineering external blade techniques were, encountering truly internally and externally cultivated masters was like children’s play—could only invite ridicule from experts.

But internal cultivation emphasized even more stepping carefully and camping securely. The large and small apertures and meridians within the body—polishing and opening them was no different from military marches and battle formations. Like Wudang, which claimed half the world’s internal power flowed from Jade Pillar Peak, especially those Daoists with talent, good bone structure, and guiding masters—one day on the mountain meant one day of cultivation, striving to reach the great Dao realm of resonating with heavenly mechanism and vital transformation.

Internal power wasn’t food—you couldn’t just stuff it in your belly to fill up. Where could Xu Fengnian conjure up ten or twenty years’ worth of precious internal energy gained through painstaking effort?

Should he go to Tide-Listening Pavilion to find some crooked path techniques? Xu Fengnian furrowed his brow tightly. Opening his eyes—a sea of clouds filling his vision, pine waves filling his ears—his heart opened wide and spirit relaxed. For no reason he thought of Embroidered Winter blade’s former owner. Who knew when White Fox Face would ascend to the third floor? That beauty probably should resent that Embroidered Winter blade was given to the wrong person.

That year in heavy snow, White Fox Face drawing his blade on the lake—that was true blade stride.

Xu Fengnian deeply understood the vast difference between cloud and mud, but he wasn’t discouraged. There was a gap-toothed old man who always grinned foolishly who’d once said: eating your fill and farting is quite comfortable, but farts should be released one after another—take it slow, it’s more satisfying.

His current blade practice method was the most stupid approach.

Time to strike the morning bell.

Due to blade practice, when Xu Fengnian struck the bell, the sound was resonant and powerful.

Over the course of the day, a total of one hundred and eight bell strikes.

Among Beiliang’s military, Banner-Bearer Qi Dangguo’s expression showed something unusual. Of the other sworn sons, Yao Jian and Ye Xizhen exchanged smiles, both surprised and delighted. Fat ball Chu Lushan nearly popped his eyeballs out. As for Little Butcher Chen Zhibao and Left Bear Yuan Zuozong, both were inspecting the border and didn’t appear.

The group walked down Jiuhua Mountain on foot. The Great Pillar of State walking shoulder to shoulder with Xu Fengnian said slowly, “If you truly want to practice martial arts, the experts in the palace do know some side door techniques—just depends whether you’re willing to put down your airs.”

Xu Fengnian said with a rueful smile, “What airs could I possibly have to hold onto?”

The Great Pillar of State gazed far toward Wudang Mountain, narrowing his eyes. “Then that’s good.”